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Simon had been going to college parties pretty much any chance he could get. Living eighteen years in a cult household will make you either a culty like your family or make you really crave freedom, no in between. Simon was the latter, making friends despite his past ineptitude in social settings, learning lots of lessons the hard way on how to make and keep friends (keeping was usually the hard part), and subsequently getting invited to parties.
The first party Simon went to, he got shitfaced and passed out in the bathroom, face half hanging in the toilet bowl, an indent in his cheek from the cold ceramic when he woke up. Yeah… that was not a great night. But he learned, got better at watching his alcohol, and now felt like he could handle himself pretty well compared to that fateful night.
Simon was a sophomore now, having to unfortunately go back home for the summer, but he got a job in the next town over where the cult didn’t have as much pull and spent as little time at home as possible. He was glad to be back on campus, to say the least.
Simon truthfully didn’t know whose party he was at right now, he just knew there was a good mix of people dancing and people talking, and that’s how he liked it. He enjoyed watching people move their bodies freely without inhibitions, the way sweat-dampened hair stuck to foreheads and arms moved either fluidly or in janky, awkward succession. Simon decided tonight would be a people watching night, as the party he went to the other day was full of him chatting people up and being social.
That’s when he spotted him.
God, he looked like the Sun.
He stood in the kitchen, only a few paces away from where Simon was standing in the darkness of the living room. The warm overhead light of the small space illuminated his honey blonde hair and sincere expression. He was talking to someone, though the angle that Simon was seeing the captivating stranger from made it so that someone was hidden behind the corner of a wall.
‘Whoever had gotten the chance to talk to someone so pretty was certainly lucky,’ Simon thought to himself. ‘Maybe I should fix myself another drink’ as if that totally wasn’t an excuse to go take a closer look at him.
Simon walked the few paces, red solo cup in hand, to the kitchen, and spared a sideways glance to the beautiful stranger and the person he was talking to. He was taken aback when he noticed the one he was with looked almost exactly like him, only with a slightly rougher looking exterior and some stubble coming in on his face. He must have stood there looking at the pair for longer than he thought, because the beard-ier one spoke up first, cocking an eyebrow at Simon, “you need something?”
Simon shook his head, eyes switching between the two men, “are you guys twins?”
How stupid could Simon be?
The bearded one rolled his eyes, and the Sun (as Simon had mentally named him to make things easier) tried to hold back from laughing by covering his mouth with his hand.
“No, we just met tonight,” the bearded one said sarcastically.
“Sorry, that was a dumb question. I’ll let you guys be,” Simon apologized, feeling like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs as he poured himself another drink as quickly as he could without spilling it and rushed out of the kitchen.
The next few hours of the night, Simon kept trying to make up for his awkwardness by meeting new people, but he just couldn’t get that guy out of his head.
His nose was perfect, his eyes looked kinder than any he had ever seen. He was so… luminescent it almost hurt looking at him.
Damn, Simon had to take a piss.
He quickly ended the conversation he was having with an English major and threw his cup out on his way to the bathroom. The door was unlocked, but when Simon opened the door he saw the Sun on the floor in front of the toilet.
Simon immediately crouched down to his level, fixing his glasses that lay askew on his face.
“Hey, are you okay?” He asked softly despite the volume of the party, closing the door behind him with his hand while he put the other on the Sun’s shoulder.
The Sun simply blinked at him before ducking his head back into the bowl, letting out a few dry heaves before getting sick again. Simon rubbed the Sun’s back and took his glasses all the way off when he saw they were two inches from falling into the toilet water.
“Do you know how many fingers I'm holding up?” Simon tried again to get a verbal response while holding up three fingers.
The Sun nodded, “three,” before squinting up at Simon, who put his glasses back on.
Once he had them back on again, he smiled slightly, “hey… you’re that- that guy that asked if me and Colt were twins…” The Sun let out a dazed giggle.
Simon thought his heart was going to melt.
Colt must have been his twin’s name.
“Yeah, I am. Do you know where Colt is?” Simon was hoping he could find his brother, and even more hoping that he wasn’t as drunk as his twin so he could take him home.
The Sun looked up at Simon for a long moment, “noooope,” he said before laughing and hanging his head, which made Simon worry that he was going to throw up again.
“Do you still feel sick?” Simon asked gently, lifting the Sun’s chin to look at him before realizing what he was doing and pulling his hand away, his cheeks flushing slightly.
“Hmmm… I don't think there’s anything left to puke, so no!” The Sun laughed and leaned his head against Simon’s shoulder.
Oh gosh.
“Let’s try and stand you up then, okay?” Simon hooked an arm around Grace’s torso, slowly standing the both of them up.
The Sun must have noticed the way Simon’s arm felt, because he looked down at it and gasped, “robot arm!?”
Simon laughed and shook his head, “something like that…”
“That’s so cool…” The Sun touched Simon’s prosthetic, gentle fingers grazing the carbon fiber shell. Never before has Simon wished this much that he still had both arms…
“Come on, let’s clean you up, yeah?” Simon wadded up some toilet paper and ran it under warm water, bringing it to the Sun’s mouth to clean off his face, going from his forehead to wipe away the sweat down to his mouth.
The Sun looked up at him and smiled, “you’re pretty handsome,” he said, head lolling to the side.
“You’re very drunk,” Simon responded easily.
“Nuh uh, you’ve got big muscles and you’re handsome, like a knight from a…from like a princess story… or something…”
Simon laughed.
“What dorm do you live in? I could walk you there,” Simon added that second sentence because he wanted to make it very clear he was not going to hook up with someone whose blood may as well have been vinegar at this point. As much as this was the bare minimum, Simon knew that even if the bar was on the floor, you could always dig into the ground.
“You could do more than walk me, handsome,” the Sun winked (or tried to, it was really an exaggerated blink) at Simon.
How could someone be so cute?
Simon laughed, this one a bit more nervous.
“You’re drunk,” Simon stated simply.
“Nuh uh!” The Sun said again, more insistent this time.
“Well, even if you’re not drunk, you don’t even know me,” Simon countered.
The Sun looked like he had been beaten there.
“Do you remember where your dorm is?” Simon really didn’t want the Sun to be out much longer, not when he was so vulnerable like this.
“Yeah, it’s Corc- corky, corcoran,” the Sun laughed at his own joke, making Simon smile.
“Okay, I’ll walk you back.”
.
It took some effort for Simon to walk the Sun back to his dorm, on account of how the taller man kept stumbling, but he eventually was successful, walking him to the elevator, pushing the floor, and when they got to the Sun’s dorm, Simon even unlocked the door when the Sun’s hands were too wobbly.
Simon gently placed the Sun on his bed, turning to leave before realizing if he was this drunk he probably wouldn’t be able to get his chucks off.
Simon quickly undid the laces of his shoes and slipped them off, before turning to walk out for real this time.
“Wait!” the Sun called out to him, sitting up where he had been lying down just a moment before.
“Are you okay?”
“You should stay,” the Sun said simply, patting the space on the bed next to him, giving Simon a small, inviting smile.
Simon gulped.
“That’s not a good idea,” he said.
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it really isn’t.”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“Is too!”
“Okay!” Simon put his hands up in surrender, “I’ll sleep on the floor so you’re not alone,” he relented.
“Nooooo, sleep with me!”
Simon thought he was going to die.
“I’m not going to do that,” Simon said simply.
“Sleep next to me?”
Simon thought. He thought some more. Then he looked at the Sun’s face, flush with alcohol but a little more coherent now. He was so beautiful… like an angel.
“I will…” a sigh, “sleep next to you…”
The Sun smiled and scooted on the small bed, giving Simon room to crawl in. He slipped his boots off and laid down on top of the covers for an extra layer of fabric between the two of them, before remembering how uncomfortable it was to lay down with his prosthetic on and reaching under his shirt to undo the harness on his chest. Simon could practically feel the Sun’s eyes on him as he did so, making Simon’s ears turn red from embarrassment and something else.
“Robot arm…” the Sun murmured softly as Simon put his prosthetic down on the bedside table.
“Get under the covers, don't want you cold,” the Sun said insistently, making so Simon had no choice but to relent.
“Okay, okay…”
Now that Simon was under the covers with the Sun, he could really feel his warmth. It also didn’t help that as soon as he was close enough, the Sun wrapped an arm around Simon’s stomach and rested his head on his chest.
Oh God.
“This is… awfully intimate stuff to be doing when we don’t even know each others’ names.
A beat.
“Well, what’s your name?”
“It’s… Simon. What’s yours?”
“Ryland Grace.”
“Grace, that’s a pretty last name.”
“...You can call me just Grace if you want.”
“Is that what your friends call you?”
“No, but it's what I want you to call me.”
“I’ll call you Grace, then.”
“Mm, good.”
“You comfy?”
“Very.”
“You sure you don’t want me to go?”
“Please stay.”
Fuck.
“Goodnight, Grace.”
“Goodnight, Simon.”
.
.
.
It was the best sleep Simon had ever had in his whole life. When Simon woke up, the sunlight was pouring in through Grace’s curtains, shining on the lower half of his beautiful face. It was at this moment Simon could count Grace’s long eyelashes if he wanted to, where he noticed the way Grace’s nose was sharp but his jawline was softer, the way that if Simon had seen an illustration of him in the pages of a Bible that he would have been exactly in place as an angel. Simon thought about how long it would be acceptable to just stare at someone he just met while they slept.
Just as this thought finished forming, Colt unlocked the door and opened it to see Simon and Grace laying there.
Simon shot up, Grace’s arm still around his stomach as he lay asleep, “I SWEAR NOTHING HAPPENED! LOOK, I’M STILL FULLY CLOTHED!” He yelled and pulled the covers off of only himself as the embarrassment settled on his face.
Colt covered his ears and groaned, “dude, I don’t care. Just don’t be so loud, Jesus…”